Page 64 of The Golden Hour

Mason doesn’t deflate; he rises.

“My actions will be better,” Mason whispers, and then almost too low for her to hear, and she thinks she maybe wasn’t supposed to. “I’ll show you, baby.”

Honey shivers at the words, the tone, the want for him to show her because she still loves him, the anger wanting to scream at him because of the same reason.

Mason instantly notices.

“Are you cold?”

Honey nods. “A little.”

“Okay, I’ll go get you a couple more—wait, hold on.” Mason’s eyes light up as he turns toward the door, holding up one finger. “I’ll be right back, baby.”

Honey frowns in confusion as he sprints out of the room and down the hall.

Shaking her head, she readjusts Daisy on her chest, wincing at the uncomfortable tug low in her abdomen. Her belly does not seem to be receding at all, which alarmed her until Dr. Farah told her very gently that it is normal.

Still, it wounds her self-esteem.

The softness of her stomach, the stretch marks on her hips, her breasts, her belly, her hips. Pregnancy did not give her the glow like it gave other women. She knows she has lost too much weight and looks a little gaunt. There are heavy dark circles and bags under her eyes, and she’s way too pale still, though her mom says her color is returning.

It’s such a silly thing to be self-conscious while you’re in the hospital, but knowing something is silly does not stop it from hurting.

When Mason does not return after ten minutes, Honey wonders what he went to get as she glances down at Daisy.

“I hope you don’t inherit his ADHD though, baby girl,” Honey whispers to a sleeping Daisy. “It’s like dealing with an untrained husky sometimes.”

Honey chuckles to herself before movement out of the corner of her eye startles her. Instead of her dark-haired doctor husband, it’s a dark-haired doctor woman standing in the doorway.

Honey startles, not expecting her.

“Oh,” Honey gasps. She presses a hand to her chest and laughs at herself. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the woman smiles, stepping into the room without invitation. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Honey waves her off, adjusting Daisy in her arms. “It’s alright.”

“I’m Dr. Felicia Lewis,” she says, stepping just inside the room without waiting for Honey to invite her. “I work with Mason in the emergency department.”

Honey’s smile cracks.

“Oh,” she says quietly.

Dr. Felicia Lewis is objectively beautiful in a way that Honey wishes she didn’t notice. She’s the opposite of Honey—dark, silky hair, big blue eyes, radiant skin, and plush lips. A perfectly polished pretty.

Honey is painfully aware of the hospital gown hanging open at her chest, the softness of her stomach beneath the blanket. She pales in comparison to the tall beauty who walks right over to the bedside.

Honey frowns at this woman.

She did not invite her in, and Mason’s coworker or not, this feels a little uncomfortable and invasive. Especially as Dr. Lewis looks down at Daisy with a decent impression of a smile.

Honey tilts Daisy away without thinking, trying to place as much of herself as she can between this woman and her baby. Her eyes flick toward the door, willing Mason, a nurse, or anyone to walk by.

“Well, isn’t she just precious,” Dr. Lewis coos, the sound saccharine. “How lucky are you that you’re able to stay home and take care of her while your husband works so hard here.”

Honey’s mouth goes dry at that, her heart pounding in her chest as the words wash over her. They land on every single insecurity sitting in Honey’s chest like this woman expertly knew what buttons to push.

Your husband works so hard so that you can stay home, and you’re complaining about how much he works to support your lazy ass?